


Little Sisters Don't Make Wingwomen

by bealeciphers



Category: The Flash (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-03-30 06:19:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3926062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bealeciphers/pseuds/bealeciphers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Len and Barry are getting heavy when Lisa cockblocks Len as payback for when he interrupted her and Cisco.  Later, Barry meets Lisa and Mick again which Len isn't happy about.  And the cockblocking just keeps happening.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Len had barely pushed Barry through the door before the speedster was grabbing him and slamming their faces together.  The red-clad superhero held Len’s neck, dragging the other man backwards and Len followed.  He wrapped his arms around Barry’s shoulders, pulling the other man tight against him until their pace was a slow shuffle, tongue and teeth interrupting the walk.

Eventually, Barry fell backwards onto the couch.  Len hardly hesitated before he slid his body over the speedster.  He pushed one of Barry’s knees to hang off the edge and then was lying between Barry’s legs.  Len surged forward, pressing a strong kiss against Barry’s jaw and then slowly moving his mouth down to Barry’s collarbone and the little exposed skin he could reach there. 

Barry made this _sound,_ something low and strong, it surged from his stomach and throat and it was heavenly.  Len wanted to hear him do it again, a thousand times, until Barry was weak and trembling underneath him.

He kissed a curve of Barry’s clavicle next, teeth catching the skin on purpose, Barry arched into him and Len sucked hard, making a mark he wanted to last.   _Imagine it,_ Len thought as his searching hands gripped down the sides of Barry’s body eagerly, _the Flash confronting me at a crime scene, hiding bruises and hickeys under his uniform_. _His eyes wide and dark, brown, filled with that confused anger the Flash is always fighting off._

Len’s mouth fell off Barry’s skin with a gasp when he felt Barry's fingers gripping under his pants, tugging him forward.  Barry’s leg found purchase against the hook of Len’s hip and the side of the couch, curling around him, and the other man was arching up against Len with a complete abandonment of shame.

This sort of thing didn’t _happen_ to Leonard Snart.  Beautiful young men didn’t throw themselves at Len’s feet unless he was waving money around; no one else shuddered when he kissed them, no one but Barry trembled under his touch like Len’s hands were something he _wanted._  Len had never, in his life, had luck in love- but maybe he was saving it all to have some chance with Barry Allen. In that case all the lonely nights were worth it.

Barry Allen was moaning under his fingertips, pushing against Len’s touch, his mouth open in shock as the speedster ground his hips against Len’s for the slightest hint of friction.  Len’s hands ghosted over the red uniform Barry was wearing, hands searching for a seam.  “I need to get this off,” Len said, and his voice was husky and low, the want in it raw and obvious.

Barry moaned, his hands grabbing the front of Len’s parka tightly and pulling Len against him.  “I’d have to get up,” Barry choked out.  

Barry wanted this just as bad as Len.  That was _insane,_ it was incredible- someone like Barry Allen throwing himself at a person as fucked up and wrong for him as Len.  Len nearly went as far and cliché as to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming.

But it was real, it was beautifully real.

Len reached up, grabbing a fistful of Barry’s hair to pepper hard kisses along Barry’s jaw.  Barry moaned loudly and held Len tighter.  His hips rubbed a rhythm against Len’s groin, a painfully swift motion that was so tantalizingly almost enough.  Len’s body was responding even to that, even to the rough pittance of friction he was getting.  It wasn’t like Len got much action.

Len wasn’t going to let his body's near desire to explode right now stop him; Len was going to make this night the best _damn_ night of Barry Allen’s life.  He was going to _ruin_ him, give Barry everything he wanted and more until Barry couldn’t help but want to come back to him.

“I have to get up,” Barry repeated breathlessly.  Len leaned back, just enough to zip his parka off and toss off his shirt underneath in one swift motion.  The moment of stepping back gave Len the most gorgeous sight, Barry, hood down, eyes wide and mouth open, his body shaking with need as he stared at Len.  There was a definite bulge in the front of the Flash uniform.  Barry wanted this just as much as Len did.  It was _insane._

Len dropped down to press his mouth on the reddening skin on Barry’s neck, his hand grasped at the front of Barry’s uniform.  He palmed the bulge in his hand and Barry responded like he was dying.  Barry gasped, held Len’s arms tight in his hands as his fingernails clenched into Len’s skin.

“You… I’m… you look,” Barry said, struggling to speak as Len’s lips pressed kisses against his jaw.  

“I’m going to _fucking_ eat you,” Len said, baring his teeth against Barry’s skin.

Barry groaned and suddenly his fingers were tugging Len’s pants forward and his hand was sliding underneath.  Barry’s hand gripped Len’s cock, skin on skin, and that nearly drove Len crazy.  He kissed Barry’s mouth roughly, grabbing the other man’s hair with his free hand.  Len wanted Barry so much, anyway that Barry would have him, Len would do anything Barry asked and the though didn’t scare him so much as sent electric shocks of pleasure down his spine.

Barry’s hand was stroking Len awkwardly, position nearly impossible but he still managed.  His hips jerked up against Len’s hand on his groin and Barry moaned deep in his throat.  Len kissed him as if he was trying to swallow the noise.

And then Barry’s hands moved away from Len’s skin and grabbed his Flash uniform at the thighs, tugging.  It was attached to a seam along his back and stomach and Len’s fingers instantly dropped to help Barry’s tug it off.  His forehead pressed rough on Barry’s jaw as he tried to look, didn’t want to stop holding Barry in his hands, because-

“I didn’t know we were having a _guest_ for dinner,” the door to the safe house slammed shut.  Len hadn’t even heard it open.  Beneath him, Barry stopped moving, staring with wide eyes past Len’s shoulder.

Len groaned with frustration and painfully turned his head.

Lisa, holding grocery bags, her hair put up in a casual bun as she stomped off the boots on her feet, looked pointedly at the ceiling.  There was a troublesome smirk on her face, one that reminded Len too much of himself.   _“Lenny,_ I was just thinking,” she said calmly, “What was it you told me?  We can’t kiss our enemies?”

_“Lisa,”_ Len snapped.  His hands went to Barry’s sides to hold him still, and Barry, with a gasp of shock, grabbed for the hood of his Flash uniform and hurriedly pulled it over his face. 

“‘Don’t mess around with cute, nerdy brunettes, Lisa’,” she said, stomping right past the couch as she walked into the kitchen area that was attached to the living room. “‘Stop flirting with the targets, Lisa’, and what was the other one, hmmm… ‘Why would you kiss that weird, techy kid’?”

“Wait,” Barry said suddenly, trying to look up from the end of the couch, “you mean _Cisco?”_

Len saw their eyes connect for a moment and he felt enormously uncomfortable with his little sister and the man he was _literally_ just about to fuck into the couch.   _“Lisa,_ you’re interrupting something _important.”_

Lisa unpacked the groceries on the counter.  She cast cold, dark eyes on Len, her eyebrow raised with an expression that, for their entire childhood, had always meant ‘ _So what?_ ’  “You’re interrupting my dinner,” Lisa told him, her voice light and airy even if her expression was hard.  “We’re making Italian.  I bought garlic bread and pasta.”

Barry shifted uncomfortably under Len and Len was forced to adjust himself, moving off the other man just enough that his weight wasn’t pushing Barry into the couch.  

“Since when do you cook?” Len growled.

“Since you invited me to be a part of your super-thieves team, Lenny,” Lisa grinned wickedly at him, “I _told_ you I wanted to spend more time together.”

Barry grabbed his pants, readjusting them so they fit on his uniform.  He sat up, turning his torso around to look easier at Lisa.  “I like garlic bread,” Barry told her, his eyes shifting from Lisa to Len.

“Sis, I’m going to kill you,” Len snapped at her.

“He likes _garlic bread_ , Lenny,” Lisa said, waving a package of organic tomatoes in the air, “invite the Flash to family dinner.”

Len looked at Barry, his gaze skimming down the red uniform.  “There’s a bedroom-” Len started to say.

“No, Mick is coming and I need you to play with your friend otherwise he’ll light the curtains on fire again,” Lisa interrupted.

Len dropped his head against Barry’s chest and sighed but Barry, _the Flash_ , wrapped his arms around Len’s head. When Len looked up at him the speedster was smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a sequel chapter, per request :)

For once Len was grateful that Mick had an enormous capacity to role with change.

“Flash?” Mick said gruffly when he’d entered the safehouse, frowning at the red-clad speedster setting a salad down on the kitchen counter.

“He’s having dinner with us,” Len told the man, frowning at his sister as he shut the door behind his friend.  Lisa gave Len a wickedly broad grin as she ordered Barry to get some silverwear from the sink.

“Why?” Mick wondered.  He was shrugging off a thick coat, shaking his hands to dispel the cold air from outside, and then ran his hands up and down his bare arms.  Mick was wearing a sleeveless tank top, Blue Oyster Cult logo on the front, and had that pugnacious expression that never seemed to leave his face.  Len did appreciate his friend was the type of person that good citizens would cross a street to avoid walking by, but he gave Barry a quick nervous glance.  The speedster didn’t seemed phased but… _of course_ , after all he’d met Mick before.

“We were on a date,” Len said, annoyed.

“When the Rangers are playing tonight?” Mick chuckled under his breath.  The man kicked snow off his boots and then stomped over toward the kitchen and Len followed him.

“Whoa!” Lisa said when she saw the two of them.  “Step back! You are _not,_ I repeat, not allowed near the stove, Mick!”

Barry looked up with surprise, eyes widening beneath his hood as he stared between Lisa and Mick with apprehension.

“I want a beer,” Mick growled.

“I will get you a beer!” Lisa snapped at him.  She pointed to the couch with a spatula.  “Sit.  Put on the game.  Do not try to come _near_ the stove.”

“Can we turn the temperature up?” Mick asked Len.  He moved obediently, boots stomping on the floor, and sat down on the couch where… Len had planned a very different night on that couch.  

It was fucking annoying.  For once Len gets _lucky_ and his own sister interrupts him.

“I’ll get us beers,” Len told Mick.  He stepped over to the kitchen but paused right by the entrance.  Lisa didn’t say anything to him, she was looking at the ingredients on the sauce packet for the lasagna with a frown as she stirred a boiling pot of tomato juice and spices.  He walked past her, careful not to budge her, and right past Barry who was washing silverware by the sink.

Right.  Len hadn’t done the dishes.   

Feeling a mix of guilt and annoyance, he pulled three beers out of the refridgerator and tapped Barry’s shoulder.  “Want one?” Len asked.

“Oh, I don’t drink,” Barry said immediately.

The kid looked so fucking weird in the Flash uniform, standing in an apartment kitchen with Len’s team all dressed in casual clothes.  Weird and… Len’s eyes dropped to Barry’s ass without meaning to and he was instantly aware of the fact his body had been preparing to fuck not too long ago.  

“Aw, you’re adorable,” Lisa commented, looking at Len, “he doesn’t even drink.”

“It’s because of my superpowers-” Barry defended.

“He’s like a freaking poster child for Boy Scouts,” Lisa continued, a twinkle in her eye than Len was growing tired of.

“I have a superspeed metabolism,” Barry corrected, “I would drink if I _could.”_

“We have diet vanilla Coke,” Len said to Barry.

Lisa’s eye faded.  “You know that’s mine, Len.”

“He’s a guest,” Len reminded her, “aren’t you trying to be hospitable?  If you want, Flash and I could always leave.”

Barry grinned, turning around to face Len and bracing his hands up against the counter.  “You want me to go, do you, _Captain Cold?”_

“Sure,” Len said.  He opened the refrigerator door to set one of the beers back and then grabbed a can of Lisa’s diet Coke.  He handed it off to Barry who took it, letting his red-gloved fingers linger along Len’s hand for a moment.  “So this is one of our evil lairs.”

“Very scary,” Barry appraised, glancing for a moment over at Mick.  “We going to watch tv?”

“Rangers game is on,” Lisa said.  She pressed a button to turn the stove light on and then glanced at the lasagna and garlic bread cooking inside before going back to stirring her sauce.  “Semi-championships versus the Blackhawks, it’s very important.”

“Toews has an all time high this year,” Len reminded Lisa with a smirk.  He gripped the top of one of the beer bottles in his palm and turned sharply, twisting the bottlecap off with practiced ease.  

“And you really think that’s enough to beat the Metropolis Rangers,” Lisa scoffed in pretend disbelief, “we will see after tonight, brother.”

“Hockey,” Len told Barry when he saw the speedster’s confusion.  “Lisa, are you done ordering the Flash around?”

“No,” Lisa said honestly, focusing on the food, “I’ve never had more fun ordering _anyone_ around.  But you two go watch the prelims with Mick, the sauce will be done in a moment and it should only take ten minutes for the food to finish cooking.”

“If you want Mick to help you-” Len started to say.

 _“No,”_ Lisa said sharply, turning to glare at Len.

Len shrugged.  With a gesture to Barry, he let the speedster walk in front of him.  Len handed Mick the beer and Mick opened it with ease, staring at the television.

“This isn’t hockey,” Len pointed to the television.  He shuffled onto the end of the couch before he realized Barry would be forced to sit in the middle.  He almost stood back up, but Barry didn’t hesitate at all to sit between his two enemies.  

The speedster just sat in the middle, body pressed up against Len’s side leaving a wide space between him and Mick.  His knee knocked against Len’s, and his shoulder brushed against Len’s as he popped open the bottle of his diet Coke.  

“You didn’t turn the temperature up,” Mick said, “we’re watching this until the game starts.”

“Ugh, _fuck_ this,” Barry said to the screen with annoyance.

Len’s eyes widened, trying not to make any outward expression, but shit this was not going right and if Barry wanted to leave Len would help him out the door because-

 _“CSI?”_ Barry growled to the television, _“Miami?_ Really? And… oh shit, look, they have a chalk outline of the body even though the person is dead. That doesn’t make any sense. Police only make chalk outlines if the person is alive and has to be moved quickly by the EMT’s.   _God,_ the people who write these shows don’t know _anything.”_

Len coughed into his hand.   _“Flash,”_ he reminded before taking a swig of beer.

Barry looked up at Len, confused.

“You know a lot about police procedures, Mr. Vigilante?” Lisa called out from the kitchen. 

“Um… yes,” Barry said, touching the side of his face like he just remembered the mask was on.  “You know.  Crime fighting.  I like to know… things.” 

“Very informative,” Lisa said.

Barry sighed, leaning his shoulder up against Len.  Casting a quick glance to Lisa, Len looked at Mick and said, “You can change the thermostat if you want.  Do not go above eighty.”

“Thanks and fuck you,” Mick said, jumping up off the couch immediately.

“So…” Len said to Barry, voice quiet.  He wanted to run his hands through the speedster’s brown hair, wanted to feel that body underneath him again, wanted to feel another man touching him with that same desperation Len felt and-

“This isn’t what I had in mind but it’s nice,” Barry assured him.  He smiled at Len, and then his hand went to his leg, hand ducking in under the curve of Len’s knee.  “Meeting your sister and your friends, you know.”

Len grimaced.  He leaned forward and mumbled into Barry’s ear, “We eat and we get out of here to find some place private?”

 _“Please,”_ Barry urged, squeezing Len’s leg tight, “holy _shit-”_ his eyes dropped to Len’s lips, “let’s do that.”

There was a loud beep from the kitchen area and then Lisa was slamming the stove door shut after pouring the sauce on the lasagna.  She let out an exaggerated sigh and then sauntered over to the couch, falling with grace onto the seat Mick had abandoned.   _“Boys,”_ Lisa said with a teasing tone.  She flipped her hair over her shoulder, and gave Barry a bright grin.  “You’re a cutie, Flash.”

Barry instantly frowned, but to his credit, Len figured, the speedster didn’t say anything.

“You should know I like to get to know all the people Len chooses to date.  I bothered all two of those men very much.”

Len glared at her.  “Now?   _Really?”_ He snapped.

“Um…” Barry slid his hand off of Len’s thigh, looking guilty.

Sure, Len and Barry had done a shit ton of flirting.  And fighting.  And almost-doing-something-but-now-quite but they weren’t _dating._  They were… fooling around and for fucks sake did Lisa really have to bring up the _number_ because it was fucking _embarrassing and-_

“This is very, very, important Flash,” Lisa told him, her eyes very serious.  “Cats or dogs?”

“Uh… dogs,” Barry replied, confused.

“Gold or diamonds?”

Barry did a double take and looked at Lisa suspiciously.  “Gold…?”

“Would you ever join me on one of my heists if I asked _really_ nicely?” Lisa asked, batting her eyes.  “There’s a painting of Hermes at the Louvre with your name on it.”

 _“No,”_ Barry said immediately, grinning at her.

Lisa pretended to be shocked.  “Listen, if we keep lending Lenny out to you-”  She started to say just as Mick walked through the door.

“Eighty-two,” Mick said firmly, staring at Len with challenge in his eyes.

 _Oh, right, the temperature._  “I said not over eighty,” Len reminded him.

“Eighty-two.”

“It’s two degrees, Mick,” Len said.

“I’m very serious, cutie,” Lisa pouted, clasping her hands in front of her as she talked to Barry, “it’s not fair. This should be a trade.”

“I’m never going to be stealing anything for you.”

“You’d be so _useful;_ you’d be the best thief.  You have beautiful talent.”

“Eighty-two.”

_“Mick.”_

“Look, Len and I are fooling around but that doesn’t mean I’ll-”

“Oh, Flash, darling, _tell me_ you’re planning to make an honest man out of my brother.”

“ _Eighty-two_.”

“Fine!” Len said loudly.  It was right then he realized the game was about to start.   _“Shit,_ remote,” Len said, hurried.  Lisa handed it to him and Len switched the channel immediately, turning up the volume just a bit because he knew when Lisa started getting into the game she’d be getting loud.

“Where’m I sitting?” Mick asked, frowning at the couch.  

Other safehouses had better living room arrangements; this one wasn’t normally an issue but right now there were four people instead of two or three.  

Lisa kicked Barry’s leg.  “Sit on my brother’s lap,” she said with a grin.

The Flash blushed under his cowl.  “Um…”

And then _holy fuck_ , Barry moved and was suddenly sitting down on Len’s lap.  Actually.  He was… wow.  The speedster shifted a bit over to the side so Len could still see the television, his pseudo-leather clad body pressing hard against Len’s thighs, moving and shifting against Len’s groin.  Len wrapped his arms around the man’s stomach without thinking about it, careful not to spill the beer in his hand.  

Len leaned forward just enough to press his nose against the Flash’s back, holding the man tight on him.  Barry’s hand reached up enough to hold Len’s wrist and then he was still.  It was ridiculously comfortable.

Len closed his eyes for just a second, wanting to savor the moment.  Barry wasn’t light, but he was there and it was… nice.  Len could probably sit like that forever, holding the speedster tight against him.  

He opened his eyes and Lisa gave him a wink.   _‘You’re welcome’_ , Lisa said the words silently.  

Len rolled his eyes at her and looked at the television, pretending he was focused on the game.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> have another chapter of this as an apology for the last couple chapters of Rogue Z
> 
> {i wrote this chapter while totally high so I'm afraid im gunna come back and read this tomorrow and be like 'wtf'; regardless, here it is}

Len pushed Barry onto the bed, hands digging onto those beautifully toned shoulders and _fuck,_ it should have been impossible for the speedster to look better naked than in that skintight red outfit but he did.  Len traced his hands along the speedster’s chest, down the light curve of a muscular body with approval.

He saw the grin on Barry’s face, and Len surged forward to meet it with a harsh kiss.  He pushed Barry back onto the mattress.  

Len hadn’t been able to resist calling again.  Not after having Barry last night, after they’d snuck away during half-time of the hockey game to a nearby hotel- the feeling of Barry’s skin against his own had worked its way into Len’s bones.  Len had a bruise on his mouth and fingerprints in the muscles of his shoulders and he never wanted to heal.  He’d called Barry ten hours later and regretted it immediately. 

But then Barry was running up to his house, still dressed from work at the CCPD, with bright eager eyes and Barry jumped on Len the moment Len opened the door.  Barry had wrapped his legs around Len’s waist, kissing him hard, teeth clacking against teeth in his eagerness.  

Len had no regrets about stealing the cold gun.  Or starting a life as a career criminal in the first place.  Not _now._

Not when Len was lying over a half-naked, gorgeous brown haired genius with a smile from ear to ear who had an amazing talent of _vibrating._  

This safe house, which was by the docks, was where the Rogues had been hiding out for only a few days.  Generally they shifted between three different safe houses at a time for a two month period before moving to new locations.  The room was dark, curtains on the windows, with the gentle white noise of waves tapping against wood outside.  The room itself had a king sized mattress squeezed into it with hardly room for the bedside table and closet.  It was the coziest place Len could think of.  He felt like he and Barry were alone and separated from everything in the world.

Which admittedly _was_ the point of the safe house but now wasn’t the time to ramble on about logistics.  

Barry’s hand was running along Len’s jeans, his mouth slightly open and forehead wrinkled in thought.  Len shifted his weight, so he was lying over Barry, Barry between his legs.

Len frowned, barely noticing as Barry was unlatching his belt, and Len reached out, hands brushing over smooth skin on the side of the speedster’s neck.  “Do you heal fast?” Len asked, finger pressing onto the curve under Barry’s ear and jaw, right where Len knew he’d left a mark.

“Yeah,” Barry said, distracted.  He gripped Len’s shirt, tugging it up, and Len lifted his arms to help.  The shirt came off quickly and Barry’s eyes widened.  “Oh, wow…” Barry whispered under his breath.  His eyes flickered over the finger-sized bruises on Len’s shoulders.

Len was a little disappointed none of the marks he’d left on Barry had lasted; even for the few hours they’d been apart. Still, the vibrating trick Barry had was enough to make up for it.

Barry moved. The speedster pressed his lips against Len’s collar bone.  And then he kissed Len’s jaw, fast enough his motions were a blur and Len was grinning by the time Barry’s lips met his own.  

Len grabbed Barry’s hair, pushing him back down onto the bed as their lips met.  Barry’s mouth opened in a gasp and Len kissed him deeper, sucking on Barry’s lower lip for a moment and then his tongue slid into the other man’s mouth, tasting him deeply.  Barry _moaned,_ the sound intoxicating and nostalgic.  

After a long moment, tongues swirling against each other, Barry soft and willing for Len to take control, Len eventually pulled his mouth away from Barry’s.  Barry leaned forward, eyes half-lidded to try and follow him back; hips grinding up against Len’s thigh, Len pushed him down with a hand.  

He kissed down Barry’s chest, not bothering to leave marks like he had the night before.  He kept the motion soft, tender and desperate in its affection.  Len wanted this more than anything, wanted Barry to keep coming back.  Len would do anything to have this every day.

He should probably get Barry a burner phone so they could talk more. 

The thought went to his mental checklist and Len came back to the task at hand.  His mouth sinking lower and lower, until Barry realized what he was doing and Len felt the speedster shudder.  Barry’s jeans, dark, nice, work-appropriate, slung a bit low on his hips even with the belt.  Len’s thumb rubbed circles along Barry’s hipbones. Barry arched forward into Len’s touch and Len pressed his face against Barry’s groin.  He could smell Barry through the fabric, the scruff on his chin catching on the jeans- and Len needed to taste him immediately.  

He pulled up, determined, and his hands grabbed Barry’s belt.  He took it off with a snap, unbuttoning and zipping Barry’s jeans down until he got to the man’s boxers which- heh, they were red.  It was kind of perfect.  Len tugged the jeans down, just enough that the bulge was noticeable over the fabric.  Barry moaned again, arching up into his wrists.  

 _“Fuck,_ Len,” Barry gasped, voice low with lust, “yes.   _Please.”_

Far be it from Len to deny him.  He tugged the boxers down, the elastic just catching under Barry’s balls and Len didn’t care how comfortable it was, because he was rushed.  Eager.  Len could feel the high of this moment in his entire body and it filled him up pure, honest want.  

 _Gods,_ Barry was beautiful.  Len moved down, pressing a soft kiss on the base of Barry’s cock, savoring the moment as Barry moaned underneath him.  He licked, long and slow, from the tip to the head.  Barry gasped.   _“Shit,”_ the speedster whispered, _“Len,_ more, you’re killing me.”

Len took Barry flush in his hands and was about to take the cock into his mouth when the door opened.

Barry wasn’t looking, eyes closed and arching into his hand, and hadn’t heard.

Len turned around quickly, raising his hand to cover Barry’s modesty and his head started reeling with worry that one of Barry’s coworkers might have followed.  Seen Barry going to an unknown location.  Checked on him.  There could be an officer with a gun and-

It was just Lisa.  Standing in the doorway, holding Barry’s jacket off all things.

“I’m a bit occupied,” Len started to say, trying not to raise his voice up to yelling but his was _beyond_ pissed.

“You!” Lisa snapped; her voice was practically a scream in the small room. 

Barry jumped up with a start, staring at her, and then he grabbed for his jeans and pulled them up instantly as a wickedly red blush crossed his cheeks.  “I’m sorry, uh, I…” Barry mumbled, looking anywhere but at Lisa.

Lisa stared at something in her hand, a nametag on a lanyard, “You,” she repeat with utter vitriol, “ _Bartholomew Allen_ , get the _fuck_ out of this house!”  Her eyes flashed with disappointment and loathing when she looked at Len.  “Now!”

Len grabbed the side of the mattress angrily, steeling himself, and then he stood up slowly to full height.  “You, Lisa, need to get out,” Len ordered.

Lisa… actually pulled out her gun.  She pointed it directly at Barry.   _“He’s_ leaving.”

“Lisa, what the _fuck_ is wrong with you?!” Len stepped in front of her, grabbing for the gun but she stepped back and pointed it at the ceiling.  She glared at him.  Len took another step forward, this time grabbing her arm, and he guided her out of the room angrily.  The safe house was small, it was only a few steps to the miniscule kitchen and living room set up, but at least it was a bit farther away.  

“What is wrong with _me?!”_ Lisa hissed.  She glared back at the door, and then waved the nametag in front of Len’s face.  “ _Bartholomew Allen_ , Forensics, the _Central City Police Department!”_

“I know he’s a badge,” Len snarled at her, “do you think I’m an idiot? This is not about _you,_ sis.”

Lisa threw Barry’s jacket and nametag to the floor in anger.  She dropped her gun in her holster, eyes flashing at Len.  “How could you _do this?!_ After last night?”

“What, I can’t have _sex_ without your permission?” Len glared at her.  “What are you even talking about?”

“You…” A pained look crossed Lisa’s face.  “Len, you can’t _seduce_ the police for information, not when… you and the Flash last night were… Lenny, how could you _do_ this?”

Len stared at her in confusion.  “What?”

Lisa’s face crumbled.  “Lenny, you have a goddawful habit of ruining good things for yourself.  You and the Flash could have been great and-” Lisa’s eyes went back to the bedroom door, where Barry was watching the exchange with a sheepish look.  Her jaw hardened and the anger came back with a vengeance.  “Get the _fuck_ out of here,” Lisa snapped at Barry, “you twink ass disloyal little scumbag.  Selling out your department just for-”

It connected instantly.  Lisa thought Len was hooking up with someone in the CCPD because she didn’t realize Barry Allen was the Flash.

No wonder she was mad.  Lisa had been practically giddy with excitement the entire night they’d watched hockey, asking questions about Barry’s suit, staring while the two of them ate their food with a dorkily prideful look on her face.  She’d been happy for Len for the first time, because Len was in a relationship with someone who _wasn’t_ a hitman or soulless mobster, Len had a _good_ guy.  A guy in a mask, sure, but a _good_ person.

Len couldn’t tell her the truth, of course, so he looked at Barry with an apologetic grimace.  Barry didn’t seem to understand.  

Len steeled his gaze and turned to his sister.  “The Flash and I had fun, but business is business,” Len told her, heart sinking at the lie.  Len was good at directly lying to people but… he wasn’t used to keeping secrets and certainly not from Lisa.  The pitiful look in her eye as he spoke made it worse.  “We didn’t have anything that would be solid and if you’ll excuse me, this forensic scientist is working a very important case.”

“Huh?” Barry said.

Lisa slapped Len.  Her body was practically shaking with fury.  “You’re ruining your whole _life,_ Lenny.  I’m not going to sit by and fucking watch this.”

Len gripped his jaw.  The fact that Lisa had hit him more painful than the actual stinging on his face.  “This is not your concern,” he said to her.

 _“Oh,”_ Lisa said with unadulterated scorn, “but it’s _your_ business when you think Roscoe isn’t safe enough for me to be around? Or when you think I shouldn’t go for the engineer who made the guns?”

Accusing him of hypocrisy was pretty fair.  “Well…” Len said, thinking of a reply.  He couldn’t.  He looked at Lisa, apology in his eyes and hated this moment.  There was no other solution, _Barry Allen_ was in the safe house and this was it.  They’d been caught and Len was stuck playing it off.  

Lisa shook her head slowly.   _“Fuck_ you,” she snapped.   _“Fuck_ you, Len.  I’m getting out.  I’m going back to Gotham and the old crew, I’m not sticking around here with your-”

“Wait!” Barry yelled.  And he took quick steps forward, moving between the two of them with his eyes wide and hands outstretched.  “Lisa, _I’m_ the Flash!”

Lisa blinked in confusion.

“It’s me,” Barry told her, sincerely, “I… I’m a forensic scientist I… I don’t know, we had a late night and I was on my lunch break and I just figured Len and I could…” Barry had a pleading look in his eye when he glanced at Len.

Len closed his eyes and took a deep breath of relief.  Lying to Lisa had been supremely uncomfortable.  

“Prove it,” Lisa snarled.

Barry looked quickly around the room.  “Uh…” he raised his hands, confused, “I can… I don’t know…” And then his entire body was a blur, his form shaking, from his head to his toes he was a pillar of movement.  Too fast for the eye to see, a straight line of colors that swayed back and forth with hardly a pause.  

Barry Allen came back into focus a moment later, rubbing his neck with apology.  “So that’s… that’s my secret identity I guess?”

Lisa sighed with relief.  “Thank _god,_ Lenny, I almost thought you were more of an idiot than you are.”

Barry glanced between the two of them, looking uncomfortable.  “So,” he said to Len, “I guess now two of my enemies know who I am, which isn’t the most ideal-”

The door to the apartment opened and Mick Rory stepped inside, grumbling and holding two boxes of pizza.  Mick, shaking snow off his boots, frowned at the scene in front of him until his eyes focused on Barry.  “Who’s that?”

“The Flash is here for lunch," Lisa said with annoyance.  "And apparently he puts gel in his hair."

Mick paused, looking at Barry, and Len felt some weird desire to shield Barry from his friend's gaze.  Len just stood there, awkward, not exactly sure what to do.  "Huh," Mick grumbled, "how old is he?"

"Over 18, probably," Lisa observed.  She looked Barry up and down, eyes tracing the muscles on Barry's bare chest.  "So, Lenny, when did you start your midlife crisis?"

Barry sputtered, awkwardly trying to reply. Len just shrugged.


End file.
